Doubling Up
by Rocky T
Summary: coda to season 7 "Lineage"


_Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager and all of its characters are the property of Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Episode addition to "Prophecy." An answer to the question posed by the 1001 group--just who did the captain double up with, anyway?_

**DOUBLING UP**

_This isn't working._

That thought was uppermost on Chakotay's mind as he twisted and turned on the narrow couch, trying to find a comfortable position. Ignoring for the moment the way his feet hung over the edge, he cautiously attempted to roll over. With a muffled curse, he hit the floor. 

He sat up and rubbed his elbow wearily. The worst thing was he'd actually begun to doze off earlier, only to be snapped to full wakefulness by the restless sounds coming from the bedroom. He sighed. The captain must be pacing again. He glanced at the chronometer. 0220. Was she going to keep this up all night? 

With the destruction of the Klingon ship, _Voyager_ found itself housing roughly twice the number of people it had been built to hold. Until a permanent solution could be found--like a nice habitable planet--the crew had been forced to double up in their living quarters. As first officer, it had been Chakotay's responsibility to make the arrangements. 

Some of the choices were relatively easy, as many of the crew volunteered suggestions of who they'd like to be with. For example, Neelix had requested to move in with Tuvok. With an evil grin, Chakotay had agreed. As far as the others were concerned, Chakotay had simply gone down the roster and assigned pairs. Until he'd come to the captain. 

It would have been presumptuous of him to assign her a roommate, not to mention how a poor crewman would react to having to share with the captain. It was hard enough finding volunteers willing to accompany her on away missions lately. He'd left her as a "single" and half-heartedly thought about flipping a coin with Harry for the privilege of camping out on Tom and B'Elanna's couch. But the captain had had other ideas. 

"I'd like to go to bed around 2300 hours, Commander," she said. "What time can I expect you?" 

His jaw dropped and he was very glad that everyone else had already left the conference room. "Excuse me?" 

"What time will you be coming?" She saw his confusion. "In terms of doubling up--I just assumed that we'd be--" Suddenly, she took on a much more formal demeanor. "According to Starfleet protocols, in a situation such as this, it would make sense for the highest ranking officers to share living quarters." 

He never thought he'd see the day where Starfleet protocols would advocate his sleeping with the captain, but he'd take whatever breaks came his way. His jubilation lasted exactly 1.3 seconds--until she added, "I'll be sure to make up the couch before you arrive." 

True to her word, when he'd presented himself at her door a few minutes before bedtime, a neatly folded blanket, along with a pillow, awaited him on the couch. "Pleasant dreams, Commander," she said with a flirtatious smile and then disappeared into her bedroom. He heard a distinct click as the door closed, and then, more faintly, the sound of running water from the bathroom. With a sigh, he lay down and tried not to think about what was going on on the other side of the door, nor how the phrase "doubling up" was taking on new meanings as he attempted to fit his large frame within the narrow confines of the couch. 

From his current position on the floor, he debated simply staying put. After all, stretching out was no longer a problem. And he had an unobstructed view of the chronometer. Outweighing these arguments, however, was the way his back was protesting. As well as the noises still coming from the other room. As the numbers changed to 0225, he came to a decision. He wrapped the blanket decorously around himself, strode over to the bedroom door and knocked. 

There was a pause, and then he heard her release the lock. The door opened marginally, just enough for him to see her face. "Yes? Is there a problem?" 

"That's what I wanted to ask you," he said. "I heard you moving around." 

She stepped back, allowing him to enter the room, but just barely. He couldn't help but notice she was wearing a floor length pink silk robe, obviously donned in haste as the sash didn't look to be tied very securely. "No, no problem. I was just having trouble sleeping. You know me, I never sleep more than a few hours at a time." She smiled apologetically. "Sorry if I disturbed you." 

He refrained from mentioning his suspicion that she hadn't gotten any sleep so far that night. His glance fell on the wide bed, its covers rumpled invitingly. "I'm the one who should be apologizing." He shifted uneasily. "Uh, other than pacing, what do you usually do when you can't sleep?" 

"Catch up on my reading." She saw the look on his face. "Not reports or anything related to ship's business. Light reading--you know, poetry, plays, that sort of thing." 

"I see." Considering her usual tastes in literature, that sounded like a sure-fire cure for insomnia. He looked around, expecting to see an open copy of some obscure Medieval author, but didn't find anything. Realization dawned on him. "Let me guess, you keep your books in the outer room." 

She nodded. "I curl up with a cup of hot chocolate, and just read myself to sleep." 

He decided it wasn't prudent to suggest that perhaps she should take the couch and allow him to have the bed. She was his superior officer, after all, and these _were_ her quarters. "And I'm preventing you from doing that. If you'd like to go get something now--" 

"Thanks. Maybe I will." She didn't move, however. She remained where she was, blocking further access to the rest of the room, the bed and the bathroom door beyond it. He caught a glimpse of something lacy where her robe was open and averted his eyes, but not quickly enough. He could tell she'd noticed by the way she stiffened imperceptibly. 

He became aware of a growing physical need and took a step forward. "Well, as long as I'm here do you mind if I, uh…" 

Her eyes narrowed as she saw him move toward her and then she must have realized what his intention was. "Oh, sure, go ahead. I suppose I should have asked you earlier if you wanted to use the facilities." 

He nodded his thanks and continued toward the bathroom. To avoid brushing against her, he passed a little too close to the bureau. His blanket snagged on something and fell to the floor. 

Her eyes widened as she got a full, nearly unimpeded view of her first officer. Although a faint blush rose in her cheeks, she smiled appreciatively. 

He bent down to retrieve his blanket and saw she was still looking at him. Impulsively, he asked, "Does everything meet with your approval, Captain?" 

There was a definite glint in her eyes as she replied, "It's good to see you're keeping up with the regulations requiring all personnel to maintain high standards of physical fitness." 

He straightened up and grinned. "You know how careful I am to adhere to regulation." 

"But I must say I'm surprised." Her glance strayed below his waist. "I'd have figured you more for the boxers type, rather than briefs." 

He couldn't tell if she was teasing or not. "Actually, it's a custom of my people not to wear anything to sleep." 

"Oh, really?" 

"But sometimes even tribal customs have to give way to practical realities." 

"Such as?" 

He suddenly realized just how close they were standing to each other. "Oh, ambient temperature, that sort of thing." 

"I see." Her voice dropped to a throaty whisper. "Well, we can turn up the heat if it'll make you more comfortable." 

He took a deep breath. "I think there's enough heat here at the moment, Captain." He quickly passed into the bathroom. 

When he came out, she was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Would you like to go to bed--I mean, back to sleep now, Commander?" 

"Try to, at any rate." 

She looked concerned. "Were you also having trouble sleeping?" 

"Yes, you could say that." 

"Would you like to, uh, talk for a while?" She patted the mattress next to her. 

"Sure." He sat down. Her robe was fully open now and sliding off her shoulders. The matching nightgown underneath gave a very nice view of the creamy white skin of her throat and cleavage. He sternly tried to discipline his unruly thoughts. "What would you like to talk about?" 

"Whatever you have in mind." She caught herself. "That is, what's on your mind?" 

"You first." He bet himself she'd bring up some type of ship's business. Sure enough, she didn't disappoint him. 

"I've mostly been thinking about all of these Klingons. What they're looking for, wondering if they're ever going to find it." 

"It's an epic quest--searching out a new homeland, and their Chosen One who will lead them there." He gave her a small smile. "In a way, we're kindred spirits--we're following our own quest, behind our own strong leader." 

She waved his words away, with a slightly self-conscious laugh. "Actually, I'm more concerned at the moment about the fact that they outnumber us. I hope they don't find a line from their prophecy that can be interpreted as having to commandeer _our_ ship." She sighed deeply, obviously unaware of how the action caused her chest to thrust forward, or that her robe was now completely off. "Quite frankly, I'm sick of being taken over, whether by forces originating in the DQ or AQ." 

He nodded emphatically as he thought back to some of their recent adventures. "Have you discussed these concerns with your chief of security?" 

"Yes, I've spoken to Tuvok. And he said he will give the problem his usual thorough focus." 

"No wonder you're worried," he muttered. 

"Chakotay!" she admonished. "That wasn't a very nice thing to say." 

"Sorry, but considering our recent track record on security issues…" 

Her voice was icy. "He's doing the best he can." 

"Yes, I know." He hastily changed the subject. "Well, that takes care of that worry. Think you'll be able to sleep now?" 

"I don't know. I still have so much on my mind…still feel all tensed up." 

Cautiously, he replied, "Well, I can't do anything about your thoughts, but I _can_ help you relax, if you'd like." He held his breath. 

"How?" 

Instead of answering, he reached over and began massaging her neck and shoulders. She closed her eyes and sighed blissfully as his powerful hands worked over the taut muscles. They remained that way for several minutes, the silence unbroken except for her occasional soft moans. Gradually, he could feel her start to relax. 

He studied her for a long moment, the way her back arched as his strokes extended further downward. He felt the silk ripple under his hands. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, and then carefully slid the straps of her nightgown down. She didn't object. 

He became a little bolder in his ministrations, no barrier now between his fingers and her smooth skin. Her lips were parted, her breath coming a little faster. Unable to resist any longer, he kissed the back of her neck as his hands moved forward to cup her breasts. 

Her eyes flew open. "Chakotay, we can't do this…" 

"Why not?" he asked urgently. 

"The crew…" 

"Oh, come on, Kathryn," he said in exasperation. "What do you expect them to think, with us sharing quarters? You honestly think they believe I'm going to spend the night on the couch, alone?" 

She quickly stood and attempted to pull up the bodice of her nightgown. "We don't have to confirm their expectations, you know." 

"But the fact is they believe we're involved anyway," he pointed out, more calmly than he felt. "Just like I don't think any of them really believed that we spent 3 months alone on New Earth without ever having become 'intimate'." 

"But it's the truth." 

"You know that and I know that. As hard as it is to understand." He hurriedly went on, "But my point is, if everyone already assumes we're sleeping together, what harm can come out of actually doing it?" 

She rolled her eyes and gave him her best death glare. "The logic of your reasoning is highly suspect." 

He moved behind her and slipped his arms around her. "But compelling," he breathed in her ear. 

She shivered involuntarily. "True." For a long moment she didn't move, then turned in his arms. As she pressed herself against him, she murmured, "Everyone really thinks we've been doing this all along?" 

"Definitely." 

"Then let's give them something real to talk about." 

* * *

_This isn't working_. 

That thought was uppermost in Chakotay's mind as he lay in bed with Kathryn curled up against him. Sound asleep, her expression was one of deep satisfaction. He wished he could say the same. 

He had no complaints about their lovemaking--in fact, it had been everything he'd dreamed about all these years, and then some. No, it was afterwards that the problems began. 

They'd started out spooned together, but no sooner had he fallen into a relaxed sleep, Kathryn had elbowed him in the ribs, none too gently. "Chakotay, you're snoring in my ear." 

"Sorry," he mumbled automatically. Then, coming a bit more awake he said, "Wait a sec, I don't snore." 

"You most certainly do." 

"Do not." She pursed her lips but didn't say anything. "Come on, Kathryn, you know that I don't. You never said anything about it on New Earth," he said triumphantly. 

"We had separate sleeping compartments, so it wasn't a big deal. But I could still hear you through that flimsy partition." 

"Sorry." He shifted over on to his back and drew her to his chest. "How's that?" 

"Mmm. Much better." She snuggled against him. He shifted his head slightly so her hair wasn't tickling his nose. Her slow and even breathing soon indicated that she'd drifted off. He tightened his arms around her and prepared to do the same. 

He'd woken an hour later to find she had somehow maneuvered her way across the bed so he was squished into less than one third of the available space. One of his feet was hanging off the side. Worse yet, she'd taken _all_ of the covers. 

"Kathryn." 

No response. 

"Kathryn, wake up." 

Her only reply was a gentle snore. 

He sighed. Moving slowly, so as not to disturb her, he got out of bed and climbed in on the other side. He leaned over, picked up his discarded blanket from the floor, and wrapped it around himself. He didn't know what time it was, but if he was ever going to get any sleep tonight--- 

"_The time is now 0530 hours_." 

He groaned and tried to bury his head under the pillow. 

"_The time is now 0531 hours_." 

Kathryn sat up, yawned and said, "Computer, acknowledged." She turned toward him and ran her hand suggestively over his side. "Come on, sleepyhead, time for another day. And I can tell it's going to be a _good_ one." 

He lay still, his eyes squeezed shut. Maybe tonight he'd try sleeping on the floor of his office.   
_FINIS_   


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